Blood Tennis
by Suzume Jun
Summary: Back in America Ryoma gets caught up in a dangerous type of street tennis called "Blood Tennis". When his parents find out they decide to move the family to Japan to split Ryoma from that scene entirely and give him a "fresh start". Will the Seigaku tennis regulars be able to save him? Does he even want to be saved? And how can they when they don't even know Echizen Ryoma exists.
1. Prolog

**Blood Tennis**

**Summery: Back in America Ryoma gets caught up in a dangerous type of street tennis called "Blood Tennis". When his parents find out they decide to move the family to Japan to split Ryoma from that scene entirely and give him a "fresh start". Will the Seigaku tennis regulars be able to save him? Does he even need saving? And how can they when they don't even know Echizen Ryoma exists?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis**

**Prolog:**

Notes filled the air around me as I slid the bow over the strings of his violin once more...

Wrong

All wrong...

It should be Kevin playing as I sat on (more like laid across) a bench in headquarters.

But Kevin wasn't here. He wasn't in this stupid room in this stupid temple in a stupid foreign country whose language he had never quite gotten his tongue around. No, while I was stuck here playing his prized violin for him in front of an audience of none...

... He was still in a coma back in an American hospital...

Or at least he might be, he had been for the better half of the past month, but I had no way to know if he had woken up since he was there and I was here.

I feel tears sliding down my cheeks but refuse to acknowledge such a weakness. I hadn't cried when the blond was laying motionless on the court beside my feet and I wouldn't cry now. The bow drops from my numb fingers and I stare at it. Annoyed with myself for being so careless and remembering the first time the "Puppy" of our team had placed this same instrument in my hands.

_- One year, six months, and some odd days ago -_

_"Come here Kitten." Eleven-year-old Kevin Smith sudden says after abruptly stopping awkwardly in the middle of his piece, causing his ten-year-old (Only for a few more weeks!) doubles partner to open his eyes and lazily look at the blond questioningly. He was rather comfortable where he was thank you very much and had almost been lulled to sleep by the sound of Kevin's violin._

_"What do you want Kev?" He drawls in Japanese just to slightly irritate the other boy. His attempts, for once, however seem to have little effect on the happy-go-lucky violinist. He soon finds himself with a violin in his hands, back pressed up against Kevin's chest as his fingers are placed on the neck of the violin._

_"This is an E chord" The blond says and Ryoma rolls his eyes in exasperation._

_"What ever gave you the idea I wanted to learn how to play this?" He demanded and his doubles partner laughs,_

_"This way I know that no matter what happens to me my violin will never stop playing."_

I bend down and pick the slim wooden bow up off the ground. At first learning had been simply for Kevin's benefit but before long I had found that, while not as enjoyable as tennis, I had fun all the same...

... Now it was the only thing left of my other half that _**THEY** _hadn't deemed "dangerous" and taken away from me. They weren't my parents. My parents were too caught up in their lives to notice mine. My Ka-san was always too busy with her job as a lawyer to notice much of went on at home and as long as I played at least one match a day with him Oyoji was just fine in his world of trashy magazines. They never questioned why their eight-year-old son was suddenly saying out so late, why he seemed dead on his feet for a while, why he was coming home injured...

...IF they even noticed that is...

They didn't notice he was sneaky out of the house at night. They didn't notice when he started smoking at nine and a half years old. They didn't notice that he was worried sick about Kevin when ever the blond actually went home.

They didn't know that he had friends. They didn't know that he found singles tennis not only "lonely" but scary to an apparently impressive extant (According to Chip anyway... He couldn't deny that his fear wasn't **completely** the most rational thing in the world...). They didn't know that not only was he a doubles player but that he was the team's "Double's specialist". They didn't know he had opened the third door at eight and a few months. Nor did they know that he was a level six tennis player. They didn't know that given the choice between being Echizen Ryoma or being Kitten "Rye" Samurai...

... He would choose being Kitten in a heart beat every single time.

And if they didn't know **that**...

... Then what _DID_ they know?

**-POV Nanjiro -**

The sound of a violin playing rings through the air and though it's not the steady beat of tennis Nanjiro Echizen couldn't be happier.

At least it wasn't silence.

At least it wasn't fighting.

At least it wasn't blood tennis.

A shiver runs down his spine at the thought. _Blood tennis. HOW_ Ryoma had gotten himself mixed in with **THAT** crowd he would never know...actually, wasn't that why?

Because Ryoma had felt that he was nothing to this family if he wasn't holding a racket... But to _them_, to that street team of his, he as important as breathing without anything tennis involved. Despite what Rinko thought though Nanjio _KNEW_.

They would fail...

It was written in everything about their youngest son. The board looks, the heavy silence that was only broken when it absolutely had to be, the way Ryoma straight out refused to pick up a racket, the accusing eyes that met his each attempt to get the twelve year old on a court, the violin.

Not for the first time Nanjiro wondered if what they were doing was right.

His wife was completely for it. She vowed to do everything she could to stop her little boy from going down that path. Convinced that it would kill him and so what if he refused to pick up a tennis racket? He was playing the violin now with the time he would have used on those horrible courts in the past. And, as an added bonus, it meant the boy couldn't get injured in a match at all!

Nanjiro knew how dangerous it could be, had memorized the statistics that favored her claim. But the betrayal that brat had in his eyes when they had told him they were moving to Japan and he wasn't to keep in contact with his _"friends" _was hard to take. The way the kid now flinched when ever Rinko or he talked to or went to touch him made Nanjiro feel like a monster. The sound of Ryoma sobbing, his strong put together little rival who never **NEVER** cried, sobbing himself to sleep these past few nights told him he was a failure as a father. And every match offer he made that the brat turned down with little more than a glare before walking away was like a punch in his gut.

Rinko simply brushed it off saying Ryoma would get over all of it and thank them one day. But she had never seen...

... She didn't know the look of pure blissful happiness on Ryoma's bloodstained face, the passion that he had put into that game before it was interrupted and he'd been dragged off the court, the skill level he had shown while still on that court.. Rinko hadn't been the one to witness a Prince of tennis that actually enjoyed what he was doing. Nanjiro sure knew that he had NEVER seen _ANY _of it before that day and doubted that he would see it again.

Hopefully Seigaku would help his little prodigy because he was completely at a loss...


	2. The First Day

Blood** Tennis**

**Summery: Back in America Ryoma gets caught up in a dangerous type of street tennis called "Blood Tennis". When his parents find out they decide to move the family to Japan to split Ryoma from that scene entirely and give him a "fresh start". Will the Seigaku tennis regulars be able to save him? Does he even want to be saved? And how can they when they don't even know Echizen Ryoma exists?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis**

**Chapter one: The First Day**

_"Third door ope..." A voice, Chip's he believed, fades out as he allows the Pinicle of Perfection to wrap around him and push him farther away from reality. Sending him spiraling towards that scary cliff that both frightened and enticed him. His eyes starting to get a red gleam to them as he allows the ball to fly by him, mear centimeters away from his face..._

_...The sound of racket hitting ball behind him and the ball whisteling back past his ear is all he needs to know that Kevin is still able to stand. _

_The edge of the cliff is closer now, to close for his liking really, and he starts to struggle against the chains that seem to be dragging him towards his death, his eyes taking on more and more of a red color until there is nothing left but a golden hue in the two simmering pools of bright crimson. Chains that disapear with a single sentence from the player sharing his side of their cage._

_"Don't worry Rye, I'll catch you..."_

Twelve year old Echizen Ryoma shoots straight up in his bed, the alarm clock next to his head blairing out that it had been about time for him to wake up anyway right after he had just managed to calm himself down. Rubing sleep and tears from his eyes he yawns and turns off the cursed contraption. Feeling an overwhelming sense of dread as his eyes register seeing the neatly pressed and folded Seigaku uniform that someone had put on his desk chair for him over night.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't stand to go to some new school where everything was different and tennis was the major sport instead of football. He couldn't "Start fresh", as the woman who _looked _like his Ka-san but _wasn't _had put it. Not today. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that...

... Not on a day he is without Kevin...

Soft footsteps alert him to the fact that Nanako-san, the only one he is currently somewhat talking to as she really has nothing to do with any of this, is approaching his door before the timid knock even finds it's way from the door.

"Ryoma-kun, I put your uniform on your chair last night. You need to get up now for school, Aunt Rinko said that you like American breakfasts so I made you eggs and toast." comes her innocent voice through the door and Ryoma's eyebrow twitches at the last part of her words...

... He**_ LOATHED_**American breakfasts...

... Shouldn't Rinko _KNOW _that?

"Ryoma-kun? Your going to be late if you sleep any longer." That innocent voice calls again, slightly louder this time, and he decides to answer her if only so that she would leave him in peace.

"I'm up." He replies simply and receives a relieved sigh for his effort.

"That's good Ryoma-kun, please come downstairs soon."

"OK Nanako-san, Good morning." Footsteps recede back down the hallway and he climbs out of bed sighing in frustration...

... It was going to be a **LONG** day, he could already tell...

_ LINE? _

"Kiritsu" One of the students, a taller-looking girl with brown eyes and shoulder length black hair, says after the bell rings promptly causing all of the students to stand from their seats as the Sensei walks in with me trailing behind him head down. Once everyone is standing the girl calls out, "Rei" and the children all bow, saying "onegaishimasu" as one before promptly returning to their seats. The man, Matsurou-sensei who looked to be in his late thirties early fourties with graying short black hair and tired green eyes, smiles at them and returns their ritual with a "Good morning" before going on to address the next topic...

... Me...

"Class, This is Echizen Ryoma who has transferred here from America." He says, looking at me expectantly. A flash of disappointment crosses his face when all I do is say "Please take care of me." and turn my head back to him after giving the class a bow. Obviously he had wanted, or at least expected, me to talk about themself.

"Well then, why don't you go sit down by the window next to Horio-kun? Horio-kun please raise your hand." Matsurou-sensei recovers and a monkey-like boy with a unibrow raises his hand.

I would soon learn that I already knew most of the things being taught, "Fluent" english (At Seigaku at least) was deffinately far (Like the distance between the sun and Satern far) from perfect, the music program here was both the smallest and second worst run program in this part of Japan (Why am I stuck here then?), and Horio was apparently amazing at tennis with his two years of tennis experiance (Funny really, from my observations of simply his hand-eye cordination I had pinned him as a level 2 while being kind. Kevin would probably be torn between showing the poor idiot just enough_ true_ tennis skills that he would shut up and laughing himself to death right now. I however, just wanted to serve a tennis ball at his face but chose the friendlier option and ignored him all together in favor of a nap. Maybe Oyoji was wrong and Japanese level tennis isn't even worth my time to watch...). Overall, my day was spent sleeping, ignoring the kids in my class, being bored, and humiliating the Senseis...

... by the time the bell rang for the end of school I was beyond unimpressed already and my time at Seigaku was just about to get a whole lot worse...

...Who knew that simply knocking down a can full of rocks would cause me so much trouble?

_ POV Momoshiro _

I was just about to go tell Arai to quit picking on the freshman. That kind of behavior wasn't OK, No it wasn't Yo! When Fuji put his hand on my arm to stop me and pointed at yet another freshman who was carying an instrament case (Why does he have an instrument with him? I don't even think we _have_ a music program...) and standing there simply watching what was happening to his classmates with a bored expression on his face. There was a tennis racket nearby him, proubably belonging to one of the freshman from the group that was picking up balls not far from there trying to completely ignore what was going on around them. I look at Fuji questioningly, wanting to do something but to afraid of what the tensai could do to me for ruining his "fun".

"Saaa, let's watch for a bit. This looks like it could get interesting." He says and I shiver. Yah, Sorry freshies...

A tennis ball whizes into the court over the fence and swings just right to knock the can over, exposing the trick and sending rocks all over the court. Standing there stunned I blink a few times before swinging my head to see the white capped freshman putting a racket on the ground and turning away...

... No way...

... Absolutely NO WAY ...

... Given the distance, fence, and need for precise accuracy it was questionable if even Buchou could make a shot like that...

... There was **NO WAY** a _FRESHMAN_ could do that!

"Saaa... interesting... Do you think he'll be joining the tennis club?"

**Hey Everyone! I hope you like the story so far. Are the characters to OOC? I tries to keep them somewhat the same... and I probably spelled Buchou wrong again... Anyway! Comments, suggestions, and questions welcome as always. I'm currently in the process of rough drafting the forth chapter of From the Mind of Ryoma Echizen (Which I have now officially nicknamed FtMoRE because that title is WAY to long.) and I'll be posting either the last chapter of Unnoticed or a Hetalia drabble some time in the next few weeks, definitely before the month is over. Until next time...**

**BYE!**


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